“You love me.”
“Clearly,” she scoffs. “Now what is it?”
Taking a deep breath, I pace around the living room. “I think you need to commit me.”
“What?”
“Commit me. Find a nice psychiatric hospital and just put me in it. Keep money on my commissary and I’ll pay you when I get out.”
“First of all, it’s a commissary in jail. Unless you’ve committed a crime, you should be good. On that note—”
“I’m a law-abiding citizen,” I interrupt.
It’s her turn to blow out a breath. “Good. In that case, why do you need a psychiatric hospital?”
“Blaire. I’m feeling … guilt,” I gulp. “This is not funny.”
She continues to laugh at me.
“Damn it, Blaire.”
“There’s a part of me that doesn’t even want to know.”
“Fine. I’m sorry I called you.”
“Oh, stop being a baby,” she huffs. The sound of paper crinkles through the line before she clears her throat. “Why do you have guilt?”
My free hand digs into my scalp as I pace the little path I’ve made around the living room. “Okay. There’s this girl, all right? I haven’t actually met her before.”
“Is she an app girl?”
“Yeah. She’s an app girl,” I say, irritated by her unnecessary interruption. “We’ve texted back and forth for a while through the app and she’s funny, you know? Witty as hell.”
“And?”
“And nothing. That’s it about her.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Well, there’s this other girl,” I say, squirming. Stopping in my tracks, my hip against the recliner, I try to discern the correct place to start explaining Mariah.
My first instinct is to start with her smile, but Blaire won’t care about that. Probably not her icing either or that Nana basically bequeathed her Pyrex collection to her last night. Do I start with the fact that she’s a librarian or that she thinks I’m a dick or that she tried to date a dork of epic proportions tonight?
“Lance?” Blaire asks carefully. “You still here?”
“Yeah,” I groan.
“I have one question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Who did you meet first?”
“I’ve known Mariah longer,” I admit. “But, like, I haven’t. I mean, we work together, so I’ve known her like that. But not like that, if you feel me.”
“I have something to tell you and you probably aren’t going to like it.”
“Is the only hospital you know all male? Because that won’t work for me,” I tell her. “I need some action even if I’m crazy.”
She laughs again, but softer this time. “You like Mariah.”
The snort comes before I can stop it. “Of course I like her. There’s not much not to like. Except the way she razzes me. And refuses to sleep with me. And I would never tell her this, but her mint chocolate chip icing isn’t my favorite.”
“Lance.”
“You sound like Mom when you do that,” I note, a wobble in my tone. My throat goes dry as I listen to my sister.
“Is the guilt you feel because you are messing with both ladies at the same time?”
“I’ve never felt this way before,” I say through the cotton in my throat. “I’ve fucked three, four women at the same time. I mean, not at the same time because I’m not sure I even have the energy for that, but I’d try if it—”
“Lance.”
“Yeah?”
“Listen to yourself. I’ve never heard you like this. Ever.”
I slip over the arm of the chair and land haphazardly across it. “That makes two of us,” I say straight-faced.
“Break things off with app girl and see where they go with the other.”
“Mariah?”
“Yes, Mariah. Just see what happens. What can it hurt?”
“Oh, ya know,” I say, letting my head fall backwards. “Just everything.”
She rambles on about taking a risk and opening myself up. Then the conversation ventures into how losing our parents made us close ourselves off from the world and how she understands that but maybe it’s not the right thing to do.
“So, is the Ice Queen thawing?” I snicker.
“Go to Hell, Lance.”
Sitting up, I get positioned correctly in the chair. My temple throbs with every move I make. The more I think about the rest of the conversation I want to have with her, the worse it gets.
My pulse beats in my ears. My heart pounds against my ribcage. I finally get to my feet and start the pacing again because I have to rid myself of some of this stupid, worthless energy.
“What if I know I’m not what she wants,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
“Have you asked her that? Girls get upset when guys assume they know what we want. Except chocolate. It’s a freebie.”
“I’m being serious here.”
“Me too,” she sighs. “Fine. Why do you think you aren’t what she wants?”
I pace. “Okay, I probably am what she wants. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, my God.”
“But what if I can’t give her what she wants? If I pursue her knowing that, does that make me a dick?”
“You are a dick,” she points out. “But in this case specifically, I guess it matters why you think you can’t give her whatever this is.”
“What if …” My breath is shaky as I try to pull my thoughts together and not sound like a pussy. “What if I know what kind of girl she is and what she’s going to want and I can’t give that to her?”
“Lance, listen to me. A relationship is like a contract, okay? Contracts are amended all the time. Let’s say you two start something today. You start it based on the current situation. However, a year from now, things might change. They do change. It’s life. You just amend your contract.”
My nostrils flare as I exhale. “But isn’t it a waste of everyone’s time if I know there’s a needed amendment that I won’t sign?”
“Do you have a crystal ball?”
“Yeah, I do,” I groan. “I know where this would lead. I purposefully stay away from women I think I might actually like outside of bed because I don’t want to do this again.”
“She was an asshole, Lance.”
“Nah, she wasn’t. Her conditions were understandable.” I start to think of Britt, the only girl I’ve ever dated, but shove it out of my mind. “I bend over backwards not to go there and yet here I am. Feeling guilt and I haven’t even fucked either one of them.”
Papers rustle again. I wonder if she’s listening to me and working at the same time. Wouldn’t surprise me, but it’s annoying too. I’m dying here and she’s letting me.
“Are you listening to me?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m listening to you. You’re basically talking to yourself.”
“I’m just trying to explain myself. Am I not being a better man by not holding her up so that someone else can give her a fabulous life with all the trimmings. But not Jonah. Fuck Jonah.”
“Who’s Jonah?”
“Never mind,” I sigh. “I think I’ve answered my own question.”
Looking at my reflection, I realize how much I look like my father. Same hair, same eyebrows, same slightly crooked nose. I never wanted to be him, like Walker did. But I always admired how he ran his shit.
He was at every baseball game, mud-bog, cross-country race we entered. He’d stay up all night and help us with geometry, teaching it to himself as he taught us. More than that, he loved our mother. You could see it when you looked at him. My friends’ parents got divorced or separated and I never once worried about that. My parents would be together until the day they died; and they were.
That part of my father, the man, that’s who I always aspired to be. Someone to teach my kids right from wrong, to make a difference somehow by putting out these little humans into the world who were an asset to society. To someday be in Goodman’s and hearing someone brag about one of my kids or grandkids without knowing I was in there. I wanted to be that guy. And that’s the guy I’ll probably never be.
“I think you take a chance, Lance. If she likes you, she deserves the opportunity to decide whether or not you’re good enough for her.”
I’m not.
“Blaire, I gotta go.”
“You okay? Honestly. Don’t blow smoke up my ass because I’ll call Machlan.”
“I’m fine. I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Do that. Love you.”
“You too, Sis. Bye.”
Ending the call, I hold the phone in my hand. Opening the app is more because of loneliness than sex this time.
Nerdy Nurse: Fun Fact—the term boy has been used since 1154 AD to describe a male. It’s believed that the word is derived from boia, which means servant.
Me: And here I thought it came from boa constrictor. Like our cocks.
Nerdy Nurse: What are you doing tonight?
Me: Just got home.
Nerdy Nurse: Hot date?
A grin tilts my lips as I think of Mariah and our non-date date. Whether it was or wasn’t, she was hot. So that’s a yes.
Me: Maybe the hottest ever, actually.
Nerdy Nurse: I guess I have something to live up to, huh?
My fingers race across the keys. I don’t even realize what I’ve typed out until I hit send and the words are printed on my screen.
Me: Actually, I’m probably not going to be using this app much longer.
There’s a long, probably deliberate, pause and I hope I haven’t hurt her feelings.
Me: I do wish we would’ve gotten to meet though. I think we could’ve hit it off. I mean, I haven’t had a conversation this good without an orgasm for, well, maybe ever.